


Wine Tastes Sweeter On Your Lips

by kyluxtrashcompactor, oorsprong



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Hux, Come Eating, Felching, Fluff, Honeymoon, Kylo Amidala, Kylo Ren in Naboo finery, Kylo Ren is a brat, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance, Teasing, Top Kylo Ren, darkside husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/pseuds/kyluxtrashcompactor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren and Hux use a mission to Naboo as an excuse to have a honeymoon.  Read the tags, I'm not kidding.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Ren shifts, capturing his husband’s chin in his fingers and turning his face up to look at him. </i></p><p>  <i>“No,” he says. “On your knees. I am, after all, a prince.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wine Tastes Sweeter On Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

> This piece exists within the framework of the series [That Unsteady Afterglow](http://archiveofourown.org/series/400483) and as such uses its terms, timeline, and context. But this can absolutely be enjoyed separately.
> 
> We must credit our betas, [Jakathine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jakathine) and [Couronnebead](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Couronnebead)
> 
> We hope you enjoy the completely SFW artwork we commissioned for this fic which can be viewed [here](http://kyluxtrashcompactor.tumblr.com/post/141348046375/commission-by-the-lovely-thissisatitle-for-the) and was done by the amazingly talented <http://thissisatitle.tumblr.com/>

Hux can barely believe his luck.  He knew, logically, that if he were patient he would finally have Ren all to himself.  Patience he has in spades. Well, maybe not in the bedroom; not yet.  There’s always time for improvement.  In the meantime here they are on a mission in Naboo without Snoke’s overwhelming presence shadowing everything they do.  Its a honeymoon, he realizes.  Never one to be sentimental about these things before he’s nonetheless excited about the possibilities.  And don’t they deserve that after everything they’ve been through?

 

He reaches over and takes his beloved’s hand, raises it to his lips and kisses it while keeping eye contact.  He knows that Ren can feel that adoration through the force but any extra bit of gentle attention he can offer he’s happy to give.  Especially while Ren is still so receptive to it.

 

Ren squeezes those treasured, elegant fingers gently and shifts closer to Hux on the bench. They are hidden away in the garden that sprawls behind their official accommodations: not the palace but in sight of it. It’s so different from the cloying and oppressive nature of Snoke's fortress; not only the sky above them, deepening in the pink and soft blues of a sunset or the delicate, manicured flowers and vines exploding in color and filling the air with a departure from the dank, acrid redolence of stone. Hux is resplendent himself; dressed in his formal finery and Ren does not need the Force to divine the sentiment behind it. His husband is happy, having a moment for himself in which he does not need to be feel secondary or to play a role.

 

"I missed you," Ren mumbles, holding that loving gaze; charcoal in the twilight and above the black of his uniform. He missed this Hux-- the one that is his and his alone. _Brell. His Brendol._ While they have not been apart a single night since the former general pledged himself to Ren, the knight senses Hux would understand his meaning.

 

“You’ve no idea how I’ve longed to be alone with you like this,” Hux responds, reaching out and touching his knight’s cheek.  Amazing how a simple change of scenery can inspire him this way; fuel the ache in his chest that’s been there since he managed to finagle a marriage for them.  It’s a passion so deep it physically pains him.  He can’t say it aloud but he trusts Ren can feel it.

 

The grounds are fresh and full of life.  It’s more beautiful than any place he might have chosen for them to go and Ren still manages to outshine all of it.  It’s enough to make a man feel guilty for every moment he spent in his presence unencumbered by love for him.

 

He’s fully aware that these thoughts are absurdly sentimental but sitting here next to his husband he can’t find a reason to let that bother him.

 

A smile tugs at Ren's lips as he hears the unspoken feelings, like a warm wind in the evening air. He releases Hux's fingers only to brush his husband's cheek, to cup his jaw and guide his lips to meet Ren's. It is a lazy kiss, unfettered by constraints of time or context and he savors everything about it as though it were the first.

 

Hux closes his eyes, enjoying himself thoroughly.  Ren’s lips are irresistible and the kiss sends a wave of pleasure through his entire body.  They could do this in their own space in Snoke’s fortress of course but it never felt right.  Snoke’s presence followed them like an unwelcome trespasser, unshakable wherever they sheltered.  Even the simple act of kissing is sweeter here.  

 

 _Careful, Ren_ , Hux thinks, deepening the kiss and gently flicking his tongue out to tease the inside of his knight’s mouth.   _Much more of this and I might forget myself._

 

 _We deserve to forget ourselves,_ Ren whispers in his mind, though groans softly aloud at the taste of his husband’s mouth, the caress of his tongue. Ren lets himself do just that; fade from the role of Snoke’s apprentice, from the burdens of the war and to exist only here, in this moment. His eyes are half-lidded though he does not need them to see Hux, to see them both as though floating above the garden in some ethereal manner. Not for the first time, he imagines this solitary existence for them, away from all that would demand their attention.

 

As much as Hux is relishing the moment he’s still painfully aware that this isn’t the safest place for them to be giving in to their whims.  It’s a tense situation here.  They have their escort and all the firepower of the First Order behind them but after the death of Senator Berenko on Hosnian Prime there lays a clear division of loyalties.  Naboo will fall to the First Order, it’s only a matter of time.  Meanwhile they are obligated to play a role: one of the peacekeeper.  Now that they are officially at war with the New Republic this is a strategic offering to the government of Naboo.  ‘Host our delegates and you may survive this unscathed.’  Tired of war and fundamentally given to cowardice-- at least, this is what Hux sees in their guarantee of safety while they allow Lord Ren to formally visit the planet-- they are now in the first steps of courting the protection of the First Order.

 

Hux isn’t worried for Ren, of course, he can take care of himself.  Ren can take care of both of them for that matter.  It’s slowly dawning on him that along with a husband he’s been given the added benefit of a bodyguard.  No matter how competent he becomes at taking care of himself he will never have the advantage of the force.  He’d never ask Ren for protection but he knows that giving it is as much a part of his nature as his short temper; his obsession with the trappings of the past and that unassumingly charming side of him that is probably destined to be remembered by no one but Brendol Hux.

 

He gently pulls away,  “I’m supposed to be briefing you on the customs here.”

 

“Too late.”  Ren inclines his head towards something behind Hux and quickly stands.  

 

Hux turns to see their escorts along with the Naboo official in charge of conducting their tour of the palace striding towards them.  He sighs. _Time to work._

 

_***_

 

Ren is not much for formality; he’d been shuffled away to Ossus to train with Luke Skywalker at the tender age of ten. Before that, despite his mother’s influence and position, he was not often exposed to the public eye. There are many reasons that Kylo Ren prefers to conceal his face behind a mask; though perhaps only his husband knows that one of these reasons is social anxiety. He’s a creature of war, not politics. His preferred method of communication with anyone but Hux is to give a command and have it followed no questions asked. Ren finds the idea of himself as an ambassador laughable though the real reason behind it had been driven home by his husband. While Ren would prefer to wave a proverbial hand and be done with the dialogue everyone knows that they cannot simply lie to him. That and he _is_ rather intimidating. _He enjoys that part at least._

 

They arrive in the throne room, which is open to the evening air.  It’s massive, but that doesn’t impress Ren, who has stood on the bridge of a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer and gazed down at planets. For the most part the room is austere with sweeping columns and arches; festooned with flowing banners that stir in the slight breeze.

 

The only thing that interests Ren in this room is the throne itself, and he finds himself gazing at it now; feeling as though he has in some way come full circle upon an aspect of his existence. There, upon that seat, his grandmother had ruled as a queen. Her presence, her aura, still clings to this place: as does that of his grandfather. The sensation is heady and he finds himself grateful for the glass of Nectarwine he accepts from a passing server. Plucking one from the tray for his husband as well he glances at him, wondering if Hux can follow the thread of his thoughts. It’s a game Ren enjoys playing with him.

 

Hux is impressed by the attention to detail in the throne room;  It’s not to his own austere tastes but it does put one in mind of royalty.  He can almost feel Ren’s mild discomfort at being forced to take this room in and all it represents among the prying eyes of strangers.  It’s good to see him take the glass: alcohol will help soothe his nerves.  He catches Ren’s look and offers him the barest trace of a smile, hoping to reassure him.  He’s no doubt thinking of his Grandmother.  Ren’s relationship with the concept of family is complicated but he has nothing but admiration for the people who sired his mother.

 

Ren smiles, sips from his glass and takes comfort in the fact that his beloved knows him so well. There is an indeterminate amount of time before they will be summoned to the feast where they will meet the current queen and her officials; though the evening could not pass quickly enough for Ren.

 

“So... what are these customs you are supposed to be teaching me?” He lifts an eyebrow at Hux. “Presumably I do _not_ wish to make a fool of myself in a room full of my perhaps distant kin?”

 

“Just now I’d like to draw your attention to the art on display.”  In preparation for their visit the reception in the throne room included a small sampling of some of their most treasured works of art; mostly portraits of former rulers.  Hux saunters over and motions for Ren to follow him; eager to point out some of the more fascinating traditions on display.  The Naboo are known for absurd fashion trends but there are some undeniable gems among the courtly clothing that even Hux finds appealing.  He shows Ren the image of a young prince outfitted in an astonishing robe studded with gems.  It’s an outrageous display of wealth that only the Naboo could present without sinking into garishness.

 

Ren glances at the portrait, assessing the robes. “I recall images of my grandmother in holovids wearing outfits such as that.” He pauses. “She was very beautiful.”

 

“Hmm.”  Hux knows it isn’t common knowledge that the Skywalker family has ties to Naboo;  Nor is it common knowledge that Kylo Ren has ties to the Skywalker family.  He wishes in this moment it might be otherwise as their hosts might be more willing to engage Ren in a discussion of Naboo history.  He brushes his hand against Ren’s.  It’s a small gesture and one he normally wouldn’t allow himself but he’s feeling particularly protective of his husband. Besides which no one is paying attention to them just now.

 

“I’m sure she was.”

 

Ren looks at Hux with appreciation, then scans the room.  He takes in the sight of the modern nobles surrounding them.  While the styles portrayed by those not of royal blood are less ostentatious, the men are nevertheless wearing tall hats, robes of multitudinous layers, and their throats and fingers wink with gold and gems.

 

“And do you like this?” Ren asks Hux casually.

 

Hux detects a hint of something off in Ren’s voice but he’s not sure what it means.

 

“I admire the attention to detail.  It’s all a bit rich but they certainly know how to convey a sense of power.  The aesthetic is… not my own but I think they were masters of the artform.  Still are, in many ways.”

 

Ren continues to gaze at the man nearest him, a consideration forming as he imagines the elements of his own history and lineage that come from this place. For a brief second he thinks of voicing it to Hux but he’s interrupted by the deep resonance of a gong and the appearance of the envoy to announce that it is time to go through for the festivities. His idea, Ren decides, will have to wait.

 

***

 

Hux hates to admit when he’s irritated, especially when there is no pressing reason for him to be, but as he walks down the hall to the rooms where he’s been summoned-- _summoned_ as though he were at beck and call-- he can’t help but let that irritation show.

 

It shouldn’t matter to him that Ren has taken time for himself but the explanation he’d offered was brief and unusually closed off.  Truth be told Hux missed him;  It’s a sensation he isn’t fully comfortable with yet.  He’s long prided himself on his disdain of too much company: preferring solitude to recharge.  But Ren is different.  If he were honest with himself he might even admit that he pines for him a little.  After spending the morning together he hoped they would have more time to indulge in each other.  Now he wonders what Ren’s been up to and why he’s been excluded from it.

 

Frustrated he chimes the door’s comlink and waits for Ren to answer.

 

A voice resounds from within and at first Hux is not sure he has heard correctly, for it sounds like the single word _Enter_ and is issued in a deep, imperious tone he does not recognize. He hesitates at the door, hand on the elaborate carved handle; then he hears something that is familiar. A whisper, in his mind. _Come in._ The suggestion trickles through his consciousness like the reverberation of laughter.

 

He enters and is momentary astounded by the beauty of these chambers.  Ornate carvings adorn the walls: pastoral scenes of ancient Naboo.  A rich brocade fabric hangs from the ceiling and drapes around the suggestion of columns that jut out from the walls at regular intervals.  It’s opulence for opulence’s sake.  Even the carpet at his feet is plush beneath his boots.  He imagines how nice it would feel to sink into it barefoot.  A luxurious couch for two sits behind a low table with a small feast spread upon it.  In the room beyond there is a large bed--a real luxury for any habitual spacefarer-- piled with pillows and topped with a sumptuous quilt.  A glance out the window catches and transfixes his eyes; the sun is setting beyond the mountains and the atmosphere shimmers with it’s deep red glow, casting a warm light over everything in the room.

 

Then Ren appears before him.

 

Materializes, more accurately, for Hux realizes with a start that Ren has been standing there next to the brilliant sunset vista that sparkles beyond the window. For it _is_ Ren despite the fact that he appears before him in a way that is both alien and not. That is his face, yes, but the pallor has been enhanced some way, alabaster, making the cosmetic red which surrounds his eyes stand out vibrantly. It is Ren’s own dark, luxurious hair which peeks from beneath the headdress, banded in gold like a crown, like the royalty he might once have been. It makes him appear even taller, if that is possible; fabric draping in long pleats that shadow his face. More gold adorns the fabric which clings like a second skin to his neck; interlocking bands drip down to his chest and more gold sparkles at his waist. The entirety of the outfit is black, which also suggests this _is_ , indeed, the man he married, and yet it’s lined with satin as red as the sky which frames him.

 

Ren’s arms are crossed, fingers hidden by the habitual black gloves which nevertheless appear softer and he’s holding a fluted, bejeweled glass within which wine shimmers. He is gazing at Hux with an expression that is also entirely Ren: expression open, eyes round as though they can take in Hux’s reaction more easily that way, bottom lip tucked in just a fraction; Hux knows it’s being tugged by Ren’s teeth in his eagerness to elicit a particular reaction.

 

Hux has been overwhelmed in Ren’s presence before but this is altogether new.  This astounds him.  How is it he’s never realized how perfectly regal; how suitable for these trappings Ren is.  The slight flutter in his chest speaks to a deeper feeling that he can’t quite find the words to voice but he trusts Ren can hear it.

 

“You are breathtaking,” he says finally, mouth agape.  He’s still taking in the finery-- the tremendous enhancements the cosmetics have given his face.  Hux fancies himself a man of simple tastes but he suddenly sees the benefit of such an addition.  He sees Ren as a prince and feels a twinge of awe that this is the man who chose him; who he gets to spend the rest of his life with.

 

“You’re staring,” Ren observes, then flashes a lopsided grin. “Good.”

 

He takes a long, bolstering sip of his wine and shifts away from the window. Or, flows, more accurately, smoothly navigating the plush couch to lift a bottle of wine from the low table before it.

 

The table is spread with what Hux now sees are Naboo delicacies. Tiny peeled prawns on ice, various nuts, fruits and cheeses; all a far cry from the drab and repetitive fare Hux had grown used to in Snoke’s fortress and the standard, rehydrated menu of deep space.

 

Ren tips the open bottle of wine over the rim of a glass matching the one in his own hand and places the bottle back on the table. The glass rises on its own and sails languidly across the space separating him from Hux. It pauses before the former general, not a ripple upon the surface of the liquid within.

 

“And you’re a showoff,” Hux says fondly, raising his glass in Ren’s direction.  He takes a sip of the wine.  

 

It’s not as sweet as he expected and he appreciates that, knowing it will pair well with the meal laid out before them.  He seats himself on the couch, feeling underdressed for the occasion and sets his glass down.

 

“Come here, Handsome,” he says, holding a hand out to Ren.

 

Ren gazes at him for a moment, then sinks down beside him, their knees brushing. “I’m sorry for the um… subterfuge. I wanted to surprise you.”

 

“I am surprised,” Hux responds, a small smile on his lips.  He leans in for kiss.

 

His husband obliges, but delicately and Hux realizes that the cosmetics which have altered Ren’s appearance has also been applied to his lips. As he pulls back from the kiss, Hux notices that those lips are stained pink with the wine.

 

“The way you talked about the style last night, the way you looked at the men with their … “ Ren waves a hand toward the headdress, the gold at his throat. “I wanted to either kill them or have you look at me that way.” He smirks and the expression on his face is not entirely innocent.

 

Hux leans in with a wicked grin and nips softly at the underside of Ren’s jaw, trusting that there is no makeup to disturb there.

 

“It was all part of your plan, wasn’t it?” Ren teases. “To persuade me to pretend to be a prince just for you?” He tilts his head to allow Hux more flesh at his neck and adds: “Oh that’s right, I _am_ a prince.”

 

“Right now all I’m thinking about is how I’m going to get my prince _out_ of all that finery…”  He raises a brow.

 

“After how long and how many of the queen’s handmaidens it took for me to get _into_ it? Oh no, Brell. You will have to wait.” Ren takes another sip of his wine and his eyes sparkle at Hux over the rim.

 

“Hmm.”  Hux takes a sip from his own glass, reaches out to place a finger against Ren’s cheek, careful not to smudge.  “I like you in this mood.  I worried about you… there.”  They haven’t been away long enough for Hux to even want to dredge up the memory of those training sessions in the fortress.  His husband is starting to regain his old confidence and it heartens him to see it.

 

He samples a few of the delicacies before them, chooses a large grape and turns it over slowly in his hands.

 

“These are perfect,” he murmurs before popping it into his mouth and relishing the taste.

 

Ren watches him and mimics the action; plucking a piece of the purple fruit from the table and sampling it himself. He makes a small noise of appreciation and takes another piece, though he pauses before consuming it. Instead, he delicately captures the fruit between his teeth and leans forward, nose nearly touching Hux’s, offering it to him with a boyish smile.

 

Hux’s first reaction is to shy away, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.  The gesture is too intimate; too shockingly sweet.  Then he remembers that they’re alone here together and why shouldn’t they enjoy themselves?  Why shouldn’t he have a romantic dinner with his husband, the two of them indulging in their own little secret?

 

When Hux leans forward to take it Ren rolls the grape into his mouth and grins, proudly showing it off between his teeth. Hux gives him a playful glare and flicks his tongue into Ren's mouth, snatching the fruit and stealing a featherlight kiss.  A jolt of pleasure filters through Hux, all the way to his fingertips, his toes.  Like a small electric shock but infinitely more pleasant.

 

He chooses a nut from the glass dish, sprinkled lightly with salt and seasoning and presses it gently between Ren’s lips, enjoying the small gesture and what it represents.

 

They share a quiet interlude as the sun sinks in the window framing them from behind, bathing the room in reds and pinks until the color becomes deep blues and blacks and shadows pool into being beneath flickering wall lamps. There is an alluring quality to the ambience that, whether natural or born of a rare spark of genuine romance, puts them in a softer mood.   

 

As though reading his thoughts, even though Hux did not feel the well-familiar flutter in his mind, Ren finishes a bite of cheese and sip of his second glass of wine and says: “I wanted something nice for you. For us. After everything. I’ve heard what you think of …. honeymoons? I mean, obviously that isn’t real, but … you always feel … romantic when you think it. So I tried.”

 

He isn’t sure if Ren is teasing him or not but between the pleasant buzz from the wine and the mood of the evening his thoughts turn towards how much work Ren has put into making the evening perfect.  

 

“Come here,” he murmurs, tipping Ren’s chin up to savor another kiss, makeup be damned.  “Wine tastes sweeter on your lips _._ ”

 

Frustrated at the layer of fabric barring his mouth from Ren’s graceful neck he nuzzles his cheek instead.  

 

“I’d like to give you something too,” he whispers into another kiss.

 

“Mmmm. I think I’ll let you,” Ren purrs, reaching a hand up to graze his husband’s face, thumb brushing against his lips. He smiles slowly, eyes lidding and sets his empty wine glass on the table.

 

“I’m not even going to attempt to get you out of those clothes.  Just show me how to get at what I want,” he says with a smirk.

 

Ren laughs softly at that command but murmurs “Yes, General,” and he sinks back into the couch as one hand unclasps the gold belt buckle at his waist. The folds of the outer robe fall away and he unfastens the trousers beneath, drawing the zipper down slowly, revealing the dark, curling hair beneath; for while he seems to have an abundance of layers he wears nothing beneath the black pants.

 

“This what you want?” Ren asks, eyes nearly black.

 

Hux exhales slowly and leans in from where he’s seated to gently twine his fingers in a black curl.  He presses the softest kiss to the part of Ren he’s hungry for, flicking out his tongue to taste him.  

 

Ren shifts, rolling his hips upward as Hux’s tongue darts over him but just as quickly recoils, capturing his husband’s chin in his fingers and turning his face up to look at him.

 

“No,” he says. “On your knees. I am, after all, a prince.”

 

A slow grin spreads over Hux’s face.  

 

 _Brat,_ he pushes at Ren, aroused despite himself.  He carefully pushes the table away to give himself plenty of space and kneels in front of his regally dressed husband, positioning himself for maximum comfort.  He knows he might be here a while.

 

“Is this to Your Majesty’s pleasure?” He asks, raising a brow.

 

Ren tugs the soft gloves from his hands with his teeth. Then he drags his fingertips along Hux’s jawline, again hovering at his husband’s lips, slipping one finger past them, smirking further. “This is my pleasure,” he says.

 

Hux takes the slender finger in his mouth and sucks on it suggestively, locking eyes with Ren, sending him the hint that he’d like to take a bit more.

 

Ren’s lips curl into a smirk and he slides another finger into Hux’s mouth, grasping himself with the other hand and stroking once, fully hard just from the sight of his husband’s gazing up between his knees.

 

“I know you’ve been thinking about this all day,” he says, pressing those fingers farther into Hux’s mouth, imagining that hot tongue on his cock. Then he withdraws them, his playful expression deepening even as his pupils are blown dark with desire. “But since I’m royalty you have to ask my permission.”

 

Hux loves this side of his husband; the part that likes to play and sometimes play a little rough.  He’s never been one for fantasy but Ren is nothing if not inspiring.

 

“Oh, Your Majesty,” he begins, slowly licking his lips, “would you do me the honor of letting me worship you with my mouth?”

 

“Mmmm,” Ren purrs, running a thumb along the underside of Hux’s jaw and, down the column of his throat, pausing to feel his thrumming pulse. “You have been so good. All this time. You’ve always been so attentive to your lessons.” He caresses Hux’s bottom lip, “You may pleasure me until I say otherwise.”

 

Hux leans in, a lazy smile adorning his face and reaches out a hand to steady himself against those velvet-draped thighs.  His other hand slips into the gap in Ren’s pants and tugs at a black curl before trailing gently under the base of his erection.  He hungrily takes the head in his mouth and begins to slide over it, running his tongue along the underside as he’s been taught-- largely by Ren doing the same to him.  Building up the stamina and the trick of holding Ren in his entirety; those had been the hardest and ultimately most worthwhile lessons.  Now he can please this utterly desirable cock the way it deserves.

 

He keeps his gaze on Ren and moves slowly, gripping him slightly through the fabric.  He’ll play the submissive role for his husband and in truth he enjoys being told how to please him when Ren’s in the mood for something specific.  He works in a little deeper, relaxing to take his girth as far as it will go while keeping the languid pace.

 

Despite his attempt at an authoritarian demeanor, Ren has been aching for this. For the velvet feel of his husband’s mouth enveloping him, taking him fully. His head falls limply against the back of the couch, the headdress shoved forward a fraction to sweep long hair into eyes that flutter at the glorious sensation. Unconsciously, Ren stretches a hand out to tangle in Hux’s hair, gently at first, then slowly tightening into a fist as he guides his hot mouth down, further, wanting to feel himself on the back of Hux’s throat. Nerves ignite along the insides of Ren’s thighs, flowing down to his toes, making them curl within the boots he yet wears.

 

“Yes,” he praises Hux. “Yes. Like that. Just like that.”

 

The former General hums gently in response to the praise; closing his eyes and letting himself sink further down the shaft.  His jaw will be sore later and it will be worth every moment.  As he works he squeezes the base gently, traces a slow circle there with his thumb.

 

 _You smell good_ , he projects at Ren, immediately self-conscious about the admission.  Ren smells musky and faintly of sweat and arousal and it’s making him even harder.  There’s something ungodly erotic about the sight of the man covered up everywhere but the place he needs Hux’s mouth to be.  He’s never been so focused on the thought of undressing the knight.  It’s all he can do to keep his hands from roaming in a desperate attempt to touch the hot insides of his thighs through the front of his pants.

 

Hux senses Ren brushing his thoughts, an act Ren has said increases his own arousal for it is like experiencing their unions from both perspectives. There is a warm feeling of approval and adoration and the grip in Hux’s hair relaxes somewhat; though Ren’s hips lift in rhythm with Hux’s head as it bobs in his lap, friction building and coiling in his belly as blessed heat. _Too much more of this_ …

 

Ren’s fist tightens again, tugging at the strands of ginger hair, wanting to pull him away but unable to just yet. It has been too long. Too long since they’ve been free of looming obligations, free to touch, to make love, without the threat of being interrupted by buzzing comms or inconvenient summons.

 

And then it _is_ too much and he pulls away, pressing back into the couch, gripping it with one hand, trying to tell Hux to stop, but all that issues from his lips is a croak.

 

 _Not yet!_ He forces it into Hux’s mind instead.

 

Hux pulls back immediately, fixes Ren with a quizzical gaze.  He was close.  He could feel it building.  He awaits his prince’s next command.

 

Ren sucks in a deep breath, vision blurred for a moment with how close he’d come to his climax. He focuses on Hux, dutifully resting on his knees before him, and gives him a slow smile.

 

“Now,” he says, pouring another glass of wine which he sips to wet his parched lips. “You will remove your clothes. All of them. And I will watch.”

 

Ren gestures to the room beyond Hux, imperiously with the glass of wine.

 

Hux huffs and fights the urge to roll his eyes.  Alright.  He can strip for his husband but he’s not about to put on a show.  That’s never been to his comfort.  Ren, on the other hand, is a beauty.  Anyone would enjoy the sight of him slowly removing every article of clothing.  He’ll give him what he wants and try not to make a fool of himself.

 

He quickly removes his boots and socks and unbuttons the collar of the shirt he’s wearing.  He still prefers a more militaristic cut to his clothes even though he isn’t fit for the uniform anymore.  The shirt-- a plain, light-blue button front that Ren seems to like him in-- is quickly discarded and he fusses only a moment with his belt before gracelessly stepping out of his pants.    

 

He hooks his thumbs in the thin pair of undershorts he’s left in and gives Ren a _look._  Feeling a bit ridiculously overconfident he turns around and pulls them slowly over the slight swell of his rump, dragging the action out just long enough for Ren to notice.  He knows full well what Ren likes about him.  When he steps out of them and turns around he feels utterly foolish.  His knight still looks amazing-- almost untouchable, as though he’s stepped out of a portrait.

 

He clasps his hands together and waits for another instruction.

 

Ren smiles, wine at his lips again. With gleaming eyes, he sends Hux reassurance in a swell of his own thoughts: _beautiful, perfect,_ **_mine_** _._ Hux can see that this intermission has done nothing to diminish the evidence of Ren’s desire for him, as his flushed cock lays thickly against his thigh. Then Ren is holding a hand out to him.

 

“Come here.”

 

“All yours,” Hux agrees and trustingly takes Ren’s hand, letting himself be pulled where Ren will have him.

 

Ren guides him between his own open thighs and with a hand on the back of Hux’s knee, he tugs gently.

 

“In my lap.”

 

“Mm.”  Hux straddles him, feeling the delicious nudge of Ren’s hardness against him as he’s enfolded in his arms.  “I don’t know where to put my hands,” he mutters with a half-smile, finally settling for resting them lightly on his husband’s shoulders.  “Put me where you want me.”  He leans in for another kiss.

 

Ren concedes to the kiss willingly, losing himself in it for moment until Hux shifts just so and a spike of electricity shoots up through Ren’s spine. He groans, wrapping one arm around Hux safely and leans forward so that his long arm can reach the rather conspicuous bottle of lube on the table amidst the remains of their evening meal. He thumbs it open, tilts a liberal amount into his hand and drops it on the couch beside him.

 

Ren’s lips are then buried in Hux’s neck, tasting him and breathing him in. He’s used some new shampoo, faintly smelling of tea tree oil and Ren likes it. He resists the urge to simply slick his girth and push himself fully, roughly into Hux and have his way, but, as Ren has been constantly reminded, it has been a long time since they’ve shared anything like regular intimacy. Instead, he parts the cheeks of that supple, round ass with one broad hand, and presses a well-oiled finger against Hux’s entrance.

 

Nipping at the rise of Hux’s collarbone, hearing his intake of breath in anticipation, Ren says : “Tell me how much you want me.” His voice is raspy with lust.

 

The teasing press of a finger against that sensitive spot has Hux reeling.  He groans a little, basking in the attention Ren is paying to the rest of him and leans forward to push his forehead and nose against Ren’s.

 

“I might die for want of you inside me,” he whispers, grinding his hips against Ren’s intrusion, wanting to force himself down on that slick digit.

 

Ren growls softly at those words, thinking he might die of the same want, and pushes the finger into the first knuckle, then slowly to the second, knowing just where to find that bundle of nerves that makes Hux’s whole body shiver.

 

“I want you to work yourself open for me,” Ren tells him in a husky breath.

 

Panting softly against his knight, Hux writhes on his finger, fighting to keep his hips at a steady rhythm.  He throws his head back as it nudges against the sweet spot inside and fights to keep back a strangled cry.

 

“Gods… R-Ren… I’m ready.”

 

He feels like he’s been ready since he took Ren’s cock in his mouth.  It’s been too long for both of them.  The snatches of intimate time together they’d been afforded at that bleak fortress were good only by virtue of them being together.  This freedom is new and dizzying.  They’ll be able to have their fill of one another-- or as close to it as they’ll ever get.  Even now he anticipates how much more pleasure they’ll be able to take in each other.

 

Ren slowly withdraws the finger, then fumbles for the bottle of lube once more, coating himself liberally. With one hand, he guides Hux’s hips up, and positions himself with the other. When the head is pressing against Hux’s entrance, he leans in to kiss his earlobe and whispers:

 

“Take it.”

 

Hux swallows hard, easing himself down centimeter by centimeter; feeling himself spreading inside to accommodate.  He’s so eager that he has to force himself to take it slow.  As he grinds down onto his husband’s lap he leans forward and groans against his shoulder.  His fingers grip helplessly at the velvet as they slide over his back.  

 

“Going to make me do all the work?” He asks between clenched teeth.  Not that he won’t enjoy it.

 

“I like watching you,” Ren breathes into his ear and for a moment he does sink back against the couch, hands on Hux’s hips, merely watching himself disappear inside his husband, over and over, biting his lip at that filthy, wet sound. Then gradually, Ren’s fingers tighten, thumbs digging into Hux’s flesh, and Ren holds him still as he rocks his hips upward, pounding into him as heat pools in his belly.

 

He gasps at the sudden feel of Ren thrusting inside him, wrapping an arm around his back and keeping one at his hip for purchase.  It’s all he can do to hold on.

 

_Touch me?_

 

It’s somewhat maddening to encounter all this lush fabric beneath his hands.  He wants to feel enveloped by Ren; a ward against the overwhelming imbalance between the delicious heat within him and the slight chill of the room against his bare body.

 

Ren hears Hux’s silent plea to touch him, but Ren has other plans for his husband. Visions that he has imagined all day.

 

 _Not yet,_ he sends back, ignoring the mild pang of sympathy he feels at the way Hux’s brow furrows slightly. Ren focuses instead on the lovely pink flush of Hux’s pale skin, the way it spreads from his cheeks to his shoulders and down his chest. Every time Hux sinks fully onto his cock, flesh slapping wetly together, the coil in Ren’s belly tightens and he knows he will not last long. It is not his intention to. A few more thrusts and he lets go of Hux, instead gripping the couch.

 

“Finish me.” Ren means it to sound like a command, to keep with his role, but it falls from his lips like a plea.

 

“Whatever my prince desires,” Hux murmurs, pushing himself against the other’s body and renewing his vigor.  He knows the underworked muscles he’s using will be sore tomorrow and he’ll enjoy the reminder.  With a soft grunt he works more quickly, feeling himself stretch and relishing the heavy heat inside him, the fullness of Ren’s arousal.  From the change in his husband’s breathing he can tell he’s close.

 

Indeed Ren is close and he tilts his head back against the couch, mouth open, eyes fluttered closed, drowning in the sensation as Hux brings him to the edge. It’s only moments before he issues a strangled cry, hands grasping Hux’s hips as he comes, thrusting erratically as he spills himself inside that impossibly tight heat. The pleasure of his release rolls through Ren’s body in charged waves, his face flushing.

 

Hux presses a tender kiss against the corner of Ren’s mouth, enjoying the sensation that washes over him-- Ren can’t help himself when he climaxes and Hux gets a bit of that feeling too.

 

“I don’t want to ruin these beautiful clothes,” he murmurs against the other, carefully slipping off and realizing that in his ardor he’s forgotten to put any sort of protection down on the couch or carpet.  He slides back a little, unsure of where to go.

 

Ren hisses as Hux slips off his oversensitive cock and almost smiles at the way his husband is thinking at this moment of Ren’s clothes rather than his own pleasure. Hands still gripping Hux’s hips Ren shifts and neatly flips Hux onto his back on the couch beside him. Fluidly, Ren is on his knees, coaxing Hux’s thighs apart so that he can crawl over him, black fabric shrouding them as he leans in for a kiss. Before their lips can meet, however, Ren reaches up and lifts the headdress away, setting it on the floor. His hair is wild, disheveled, falling about the eyes lined in red paint. The effect is much the same as the elaborate piece of his costume.

 

Hux enthusiastically reaches up to twine his fingers in the dark hair he loves so much, pulling Ren in for a long kiss.  He caresses his husband’s cheek, wanting to feel him everywhere.  

 

“What are you thinking of?” He whispers against persistent lips.

 

“Mmmm…” Ren nibbles Hux’s bottom lip. “I’m thinking that I love you.” He is still half hard, and he rolls his hips down to rut against Hux’s throbbing erection. “And that I’m not done with you.”

 

Hux sighs contentedly into the kiss and arches his back at the push of Ren’s hips, momentarily overwhelmed.  

 

“Not that I object, _Nymminill_ , but I should probably clean myself out first.”

 

Ren makes a noise somewhere between a groan and laughter, and he just shakes his head. Kissing Hux’s lips softly once more, he begins to trail kisses down across his chin, along his flushed neck, pausing to circle one nipple with his tongue and then to take it briefly in his teeth before continuing his progress south. Lips graze Hux’s belly, feeling it go taut with inhalation and then Ren is kissing the head of his cock. He takes it into his mouth only long enough to wet it with a swirl of his tongue before shifting down yet again, leaving Hux keening for more. Ren pauses once more to drag his tongue over Hux’s tight sack, and then he places hands on his husband’s inner thighs to push them up, apart, giving him access to his intention.

 

Lying nearly prone between Hux’s legs, Ren’s tongue darts out to trace a line along the cleft of Hux’s ass, to the well-fucked entrance where his own seed is still hot and slick. He circles the rim, tasting himself, surprised at how utterly erotic it is.

 

The sound that comes out of the former General as Ren teases his sore cock only to leave it in favor of his sensitive hole is so embarrassing that he throws an arm across his face.  He can’t believe Ren’s temerity.  For a moment he’s so aroused he can’t even speak except to stutter wordlessly while his hips writhe, begging for more of the attention he’s receiving there.  He fears he will come just from the feel of Ren’s tongue lapping at him.  It takes everything in him not to press furiously against the mouth pleasuring him in response.  He groans and abandons himself to the sensation.

 

Ren’s lips curve into a smile as he senses both the physical and the psychic feedback from Hux and he continues his ministrations. He traces every dripping trail of come from Hux’s flesh, sucks it from his thighs and coaxes it from his entrance by pressing his tongue inside, all the while fondling Hux’s balls gently. Finally, there is only the taste of Hux, and the feel of him shuddering, the smell of sex and his hot skin.

 

Ren shifts his weight then so that he can draw Hux’s cock into his mouth, angling it with a tight hand around the swollen red shaft. His tongue massages the underside, pressed heavily against the sensitive skin, taking him fully.

 

Brendol Hux would never do such a tasteless thing as squirm under the assault of Ren’s tongue.  At least, he assumes so until it’s buried in him and then he can only squirm and pant as he’s pushed to the brink.  They’ve enjoyed this before but never with this level of sensation-- never as wanton and flat out _dirty_ as this, with Ren’s come still dripping from his insides.  By the time his erection is deep in Ren’s mouth he’s hanging on by a thread.  He thrusts once, unable to help himself and desperate to find release there.  When Ren’s tongue hits the right spot he loses all control and without giving warning spills his hot ejaculate into his partner and flexes all the way down to his curling toes.  

 

“S-sorry,” he manages, knowing he’s a wreck and unable to form a more coherent thought than this.   

 

Ren only hums, which sends a rippling sensation through Hux’s overstimulated cock. Ren continues to suckle lazily, lapping up every bit of come before he finally releases him. Then he‘s crawling atop Hux’s prone body once more and lying heavily half across his chest, nuzzling Hux’s cheek with his nose.

 

Hux wraps his arms loosely around Ren and touches his face as he’s treated to the affectionate press of the nose he adores.  He makes a small sound of contentment and opens his eyes.

 

“I’ve ruined your makeup,” he says with a soft laugh.  Then he imagines what his ass must look like and he laughs again before licking at Ren’s lips, wanting to savor the taste of them.  Sometimes he can’t believe the utterly lurid thoughts the man inspires in him.

 

Ren vibrates with laughter. “If the galaxy could see us now....what it would do to our fierce reputation.”

 

“ _Your_ reputation,” Hux corrects him, but there’s fondness in it.  “I’m certain that this is what most of my former subordinates assume I do in my free time.”  He lovingly brushes Ren’s hair back from his face.

 

_Take me to bed?_

 

They could clean up the rest in the morning.

 


End file.
